


Liars Never Prosper

by anticsandshenanigans



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Addiction, Angst, F/F, Love, Magic, abuse of magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-15 02:55:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4590378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anticsandshenanigans/pseuds/anticsandshenanigans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tara survived the shot, and Willow went to England to learn how to live without magic. When she came back, they moved out of Buffy's house, and in together. They have been living happily for a long time, but Tara walks in on Willow using magic in the kitchen while she thinks Tara is napping. Can they recover from this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trust is a Two Way Street

The sunlight through the window is golden and it hits the floor in ribbons. Tara watches them sleepily for a moment before rubbing her eyes and sitting up. A yawn stretches her jaw, and she lifts her arms, stretching lazily. A small gray kitten jumped up on the couch beside her. He reaches out a tiny paw to pad at her knee, and she chuckles softly, reaching out to pet his ears. They feel like velvet beneath her fingers, and when she hears Willow’s lilting voice coming from the kitchen, she smiles wider. 

Tara plucks the kitten from the faded yellow couch and walks towards the kitchen. Willow is singing along to the radio, and when Tara enters the kitchen to find her dancing about while various kitchen utensils chop vegetables, and a spoon stirs a pot on the stove by itself, her smile vanishes. Her chest tightens first is disappointment, then in anger. Her fingers still in their petting, and the corners of her mouth curve down into a scowl. 

She places the kitten gently on the floor, and walks over to the radio. Willow opens her eyes and her initial smiles fades into wide-eyed, open mouthed shock as Tara presses the off button. Knives and spoons and a potato peeler drop to the floor, and a potato rolls across the tiles and under the refrigerator. The kitten jumps out of Tara’s arms and shoots off after it while Tara contemplates the forlorn redhead in front of her. 

“I thought we were done with this.” Her voice sounds separate from herself. She tucks a strand of blond hair behind her ears, and smiles sadly at Willow. “I thought we were done with the lies.” 

“Tara, I never meant to hurt you!” Willow cries, striding over the floor to take Tara’s hand. Tara lets her, but only because she desperately wants to believe that Willow will change. “Tara, baby, it was just a levitation spell! To help with the cooking so I’d have dinner ready for you when you woke up. Baby, I love you. It was just a levitation spell.” 

Tara knew that any spells, no matter how harmless, led to more harmful spells and getting doped out on the ceiling. Willow had to know that too. She withdrew her hand from Willow’s and took a step back. Tara wrapped her arms around herself. Suddenly the rosy glow of the kitchen seemed washed out, and as she looked around at the life she had built with Willow, at all of their things on the counter and the kitten’s tail peeping from under the fridge, all she could think of was the lies. The lies pressed like flowers between books, and placed on shelves like knicknacks and promises. 

“Willow. You made me a promise when you came back from England.” Tara said gently. “You promised me, no more magic.”

“I know.” Willow looked longingly at Tara, before glancing down at the kitten. “I know.”

Tara wanted desperately to reach out, to take Willow into her arms and to promise that they’d make it work. That she could support Willow through this again, that she could take her problems and make them disappear, but Tara didn’t think she could. Not again. 

“I’m going out for coffee.” Tara said. She went about the business of collecting her things, methodologically. She went down a mental checklist in her brain, focusing so small as to list their purposes as she grabbed them and placed them carefully in her bag. Keys: unlock car, unlock house. Chapstick: dry lips, not for kiss preparation. Phone: calling Buffy, not answering Willow for at least an hour. Charger: for charging phone in case Willow calls. It hurt that even when she was so incredibly angry with her, Tara still wanted to be available when Willow needed her. 

“When are you coming back?” Willow’s voice was small, and her hands were picking at the seams of her dress. Even though Tara hadn’t known her then, she could see the nerdy kid Willow had been, could even hear the stammer. It made her heart hurt. Willow was still that kid: fighting for control of her life, taking back every piece of control she could, even when doing so meant hurting those she loved. 

“I don’t know. I’ll text you.” Tara left the house without another word, leaving Willow standing among the remains of the dinner she had been preparing.


	2. Hope and Hopelessness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tara asks Buffy to help her help Willow.

“Buffy?” Tara’s voice broke, and she cursed herself silently for not being able to be strong.

“Tara? What’s wrong?” Buffy asked.

“Willow.” Tara said. She choked on the rest of it, and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Can you meet me at Coffee Pump?”

“Be there in ten.”

Tara tucked her phone back in her purse, and clutched the strap in her hand before stepping off her front porch and walking to her car. Every step felt calculated, as if she had to focus on each one to make sure it had really happened. She opened the door to her car, and looked back at her home. The sunlight fell behind it, giving it a halo of golden rays that only emphasized the darkness of the front. It was their home, her haven. She sat in her seat and clicked her seatbelt into place. Taking a breath, she turned the ignition and drove to downtown Sunnydale.

Buffy was already there as Tara got out of her car and beeped it. She stood there, blond hair pulled into a clip at the back of her neck, and Tara saw the outline of a stake in her jacket sleeve, and the scuffs on her impractical boots from running and jumping and climbing and the general abuse that was associated with all of Buffy’s clothes. It took a lot of wear to keep up with the slayer.

Buffy smiled warmly and took Tara into a warm hug, before looping her arm with Tara’s. “Let’s get some coffee.”

As they ordered, Buffy took in Tara’s worn expression and the frown that wasn’t usually tucked in the corners of Tara’s mouth, and the lost look in her eyes. Tara and Willow were soulmates, but Buffy knew from experience that when it came to magic, Willow became someone neither of them recognized. Someone willful, someone who forgot her priorities and what, and who, she cared about. If Wil was using the mojo again, Buffy didn’t know what Tara would do.

They collected their coffees and sat in a corner, away from the earshot of the civilians. Buffy blew on her coffee to cool it, and waited for Tara to begin. She fidgeted with her coffee mug, and with the napkin, looked out of the window, and back to her coffee. For a moment, she was the timid and meek Tara Buffy met four years ago, rather than the strong and powerful witch Tara had become. Buffy reached out and placed her hand over Tara’s.

Tara looked up, her eyes the eyes of a deer in the headlights, but after the initial shock she relaxed into Buffy’s touch, and her shoulders slumped.

“I walking in on Willow using magic to cook today. The knives were chopping carrots all by themselves, and a sp-spoon was stirring on the pot by itself.” Tara said helplessly.

Buffy sucked in a breath. That wasn’t a very hard spell, but to do so many of them at one time, independent of each other? That was fairly complex. Willow must have been practicing; used to be tiny spells exploded with the amount of power she’d shove into them. Once you start doing spells on a certain level, it takes practice to do small things again. Willow had to have been using magic again big time to get to that level of precision.

She squeezed Tara’s hand, and let go to pick up her coffee again. “Want me to talk to her?”

Tara shook her head. “No, I have to do this, I’m just...I’m afraid. Of what this means.”

“That’s totally understandable. Willow has been doing so good, well, at least we thought she had been.” Buffy said, nodding emphatically. “It’s totally okay to be pissed. The question is, what are you prepared to do to fix the problem?”

Tara looked at her hands numbly. Steam no longer rose from her cappucino, and her croissant lay untouched in front of her. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay too, you know.” Buffy said gently. “Not to know. If you want, you can always come stay with me and Dawn again. Or you can send Willow to us. We’ll watch her.”

Tara bit her lip and looked up searchingly. “I think it’d be better if Willow went to you.”

“Done.” Buffy nodded again and smiled. Wil, you really fucked up. “I’ll come back with you, and we’ll talk to her, okay?”

Tara nodded, and took a sip of her coffee. She made a face, and set it down. “Cold.”

“Want me to ask if we can warm it up again for you?” Buffy asked, looking around for the barista.

“No, it’s okay. Let’s just go.” Tara stood, and slung her bag over her shoulder. As they walked to the car, Buffy slipped her arm through Tara’s again. Their friendship might have begun in truth when Buffy was depressed and still with Spike, but it was a strong one. Buffy would help Wil and Tara any way she could, even if it meant pissing off Willow. Honestly, if she had to, she’d call Giles. 

 

 

They drove back to Tara’s, Buffy following Tara’s blue sedan. As they parked in the driveway, the front door opened, and Willow stood in the doorway, one arm wrapped around herself, gripping her skirt in her fist to ground herself. “Tara?”

“I’m home, baby.” Tara said sadly. “Buffy is here.”

Willow nodded grimly, and Buffy walked over and gave Willow a hug. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

Willow let Buffy lead her into the house, and Tara locked the door behind them as she always did. As she slid the bolt home with a click, she felt a certain amount of security descend in her. Home, safe. With Willow. The sadness descended on her shoulders like a blanket, and she tried not to let herself feel hopeless. If anyone could help Willow, it’d be Buffy.

Tara followed them into the sitting room, where Willow sat with her head in her hands. Buffy sat next to her on their couch, rubbing her back. She glanced up at Tara and smiled grimly.

“Willow?” Tara asked, sinking into a chair across the coffee table from the couch. “Why did you do it? Why are you using magic again?”

Willow looked up, blinking tears from her eyes. “I thought if I kept to small spells I could handle it. I thought that if I’d been able to harness large power, then small spells wouldn’t be a problem. It wasn’t a problem for so long, I knew I could handle it.”

“That’s not the way it works, Willow,” Tara said quietly. “and you know that.”

“I know.” Willow sounded heartbroken, and her voice caught in her throat. “I just….I’m sorry.”

Tara watched Willow as the tears fell and as she crumpled in on herself. Her heart longed to forgive, to take Willow into her arms and promise that they’d fix this together. She longed with everything she had to fix this for Willow. But Tara knew that Willow would only fix this if she thought she had no magical choice that would save it for her. Magic, for WIllow, was a crutch. She had to learn how to live without it before she could learn to control it.

Who knew. Perhaps in time, WIllow could truly learn to control magic in a way that wouldn’t endanger herself or others. Maybe.

But Tara didn’t believe it. She couldn’t allow herself that hope, or she would let Willow run them both ragged.

She watched Willow cry and saw the pain and love and fear for her friend in Buffy’s eyes. Tara had to do something.

“Willow, I-” her voice broke. “I think you should go stay with Buffy. Until you can learn to control it.”

Willow looks up. Her expression is stricken, and hopeless. She looks to Buffy, who reaches out and takes her hand. Willow looks at their joined fingers blankly, and Buffy rubs her back lightly.

“Come on, Wil.” she said softly. “Let’s go home."


End file.
